


I don't know what I'd do without you (don't know what I ever did)

by Catherines_Collections



Series: take me as you will [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Christine just knows that her bfs bff loves him and she's chill, F/M, M/M, Oblivious Jeremy, Pining, Pining Michael, So much Michael angst it's ridiculous, Unrequited Love, is prime Michael, this is so self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:53:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherines_Collections/pseuds/Catherines_Collections
Summary: Michael comes to learn, in time and as the years past, that the pain is something that comes with Jeremy: a price, really. And that breathing around him doesn't get easier after that: it gets harder, breathes weighed down by words unspoken, thoughts and feelings too heavy and risky to be admitted.





	I don't know what I'd do without you (don't know what I ever did)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveinamaltshop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinamaltshop/gifts).



> I wrote something! I actually tore through my writer's block to get this peice out so, sorry if it's missing the usual flow! 
> 
> I wrote this Bc I was dragged into this fandom kicking and screaming and now you can pry it from my cold dead hands! 
> 
> @loveinamaltshop this is for you bc for all the times we talk about pining Michael, i thought we needed a fic. So! Bc u r so awesome and sweet and a huge inspiration for this fic, it is for you and I really hope you like it! 
> 
> (P.s, her stuff is way better than mine so check it out.)
> 
> I own nothing, enjoy!

The first time he really sees Jeremy it's ninth grade and they're playing video games in his basement. 

It's the same scene it's been for the past ten years, empty cans scattered and casual cutting banter, but something seems different. When Michael looks over to Jeremy to say something about it, the words get lost in his throat. 

The moonlight has drifted in from the top basement window and drapes itself over Jeremy’s face, highlighting the contrast between pale skin and dark hair and crystal blue eyes. Something shifts further in the atmosphere between them, and Jeremy must sense it too, or Michael's been staring too long, because he pauses the game - traitor - and turns to him with a half smile. 

“You okay, man?” Jeremy asks, voice too loud for the too quiet basement and striking blue eyes beginning to light with concern. 

“Oh yeah, totally," wince, oh how unbelievably smooth, "I'm fine.” Michael blurts and blushes at the volume of his voice. 

Jeremy just snorts and bumps their shoulders together before reaching to grab another fist full of cheetos.

“If you say so, dude,” he says, and resumes the game. 

Michael’s skin feels like it's on fire where Jeremy has brushed him: tingly and too warm and strange but nowhere near unwelcome.

He doesn't say anything about it though. Instead, he bite his lip, looks away from his best friend, and decides to beat Jeremy to the next level. 

.

It isn't the first time he’s felt it, but it's the first time he's realized what it is - skin too tight and warm and fuzzy feeling in his stomach and unable to look away from anything Jeremy - the first time he's had a name for the feeling.

He gets used to not talking about things after that: keep it all simple and uncomplicated and quiet. 

And he pretends it works. 

.

In a way, he thinks he should have seen the SQUIP coming, or at least something like it.

His heart scolds him for the thought, he doesn't even mean Jeremy so much as himself, but doesn't disagree. He thinks that's what hurts the most, really.

.

The night Jeremy finally asks out Christine, Michael’s there to congratulate and encourage him until Jeremy can't stop smiling. 

He makes an excuse halfway through the night to run home for something. 

(Real quick, I swear! I'll be back before you know it, and don't you dare start that level without me Jeremy Heere!)

When he gets home he spends twenty minutes with his head in a trash can. 

The toilet would be easier - less mess and hazard - but he has a hard time spending time in bathrooms these days. 

Jeremy doesn't ask what took so long when he gets back, too focused on beating the boss and sticking his tongue out at Michael in antagonistic joy, and Michael doesn't offer. 

.

Date night comes before anyone is ready for it.

Jeremy worries his lip between his teeth and plays with the edge of his shirt, and he doesn't look at Michael when he mumbles, "What if Christine decides she doesn't like me?"

What if I'm not enough echoes between them and Michael wants to crush his best friend into a hug and tell him that he is enough, has always been enough, and he and Christine both know it. 

And Michael - doesn't say, who couldn't like you? Not with blue eyes like yours, so deep that you get lost in them, and a smile so bright that it lights up the whole school. Because who couldn’t like Jeremy Heere? The boy with the golden heart and gentle soul.. He doesn't let the cracks in his chest show and say what more could she possibly want?

Instead, Michael smiles and pretends that every second of this isn't breaking his heart as he places an arm over Jeremy's shoulders, pulling him closer and says, "Well then she doesn't have eyes. Because you, my friend, are quite the catch."

And when Jeremy looks up and smiles down at him so softly, well. Michael just hopes he can't see the cracks in his smile or how they connect to the ones in his chest.

.

Michael has dreams about him, sometimes. 

Dreams so much more than friendly that the idea of ever verbally admitting them makes his face redden. They aren't the kind of dreams best friends are supposed to have about each other, too warm and close and fueled by longing, but- 

The dreams often begin as mundane: playing video games in the basement, inside jokes, and pizza crust spread out around them. The scene is quiet and serene and exactly where he wants to be always. 

But it's the sound of Jeremy's laugh that changes them, morphs the black and white into blues and greens and color. 

His dream self will tell a joke, and maybe it's his subconscious feeding his ego, because every time Jeremy laughs. 

It's different in every dream, sometimes Jeremy is giggling, small and curled and face a light shade of pink that has Michael's stomach doing flips. Others he's bent over himself laughing so hard that it becomes contagious and there's knocking from the ceiling telling them to quiet down. 

In every dream one thing is consistent: he is always surrounded by the clear striking sound of Jeremy's laugh. It's refreshing and invigorating and it strikes him as intimate when he realizes that he is the only person to make Jeremy laugh like this, and something warms in his chest at the thought. 

The laughter is the only consistency, however. 

Some dreams, Jeremy looks at him: all warm eyes and smile so soft that Michael finds himself hypnotized, unaware that Jeremy has leaned in until it's too late and their lips are brushing and his heart nearly explodes in his chest. 

Others, Michael makes the first move. Sometimes there's pizza sauce on Jeremy's chin, and when he goes to wipe it off he finds how close they are, and he's so close he can feel his breath on his lips, and so he leans forward, knocking Jeremy back onto the floor just to get a taste of his best friend. 

(The dreams work as an escape too, from many things. No more of his mind yelling about how weird and wrong he is for dreaming about his best friend like this. No more insecurities holding him back and his tongue in place. No more worrying about what the SQUIP had done to them, or what it could ever do again. 

His entire being is overwhelmed by JeremyJeremyJeremy, every sense consumed by the taste and scent and feeling of his best friend, and he wouldn't have it any other way.)

The first few times he tells himself it's hormones. It can't be anything else. No matter the soft glances or sweet smiles, it's nothing besides misplaced lust and he lets the phrase echo through his head. 

He doesn't remember when he got so good at lying to himself. 

.

When Jeremy comes back after his first date, he has hearts in his eyes and stars in his smile, and Michael can already feel his stomach sinking. 

He’s gushing about how beautiful Christine looked, I'm serious Michael! I thought she was an angel and oh my god I think her laugh must be heaven. 

Michael jokes with him, ruffles his hair, and makes him tell him everything about their date until Jeremy’s cheeks are pink and he looks even more in love than he did when he first walked in the door. 

He leans away to speak and Michael tries to push down the empty feeling curling up inside of him at the loss of contact

“It just-” Jermey sighs, his chin falling into his hands and still smiling, “It just feels good, man.”

Good hasn't meant normal since the SQUIP - too much self doubt and hatred and no matter how many times Michael smiles and says it's okay Jeremy, it's fine, nothing seems to go back to actual normal. Even this is an adjusted normal, with Jeremy’s new friends and possible girlfriend - but now, with Jeremy smiling until his face nearly cracks, he thinks they might be getting there. 

And so Michael buries down that horrible black bubbling thing rising in his chest, hopelessness is like a sea always attempting to drown him, and grins softly down at the nearly asleep Jeremy lying on his basement floor. 

“I'm so glad, Jer,” he murmurs as his hand finally finds Jeremy's hair to play with, and Jeremy hums. 

.

On the nights Jeremy doesn't come over, which used to be few and far between before the SQUIP and Christine and just everything else, Michael turns up the music in his headphones as loud as he can: attempts to drown out the emptiness around him, and forget the longing ache in his chest. 

Sometimes it works, or well, as well as it can. Others, the emptiness just seems so consuming to the point where he just grabs his car keys and drives. 

The girl at seven eleven doesn't even look surprised to see him around three a.m anymore. He's not sure how to take that.

But the revolving hot dog wheel and whirring slushee machine are a welcome escape from the confines of his basement and a best friend who now has better offers.

So he’ll take it, any day. 

.

The second time Christine and Jeremy go out, Jeremy brings a reluctant Michael along. 

Albeit it doesn't take much convincing - a shy smile and light blue eyes and, “C’mon bro, I really don't want to screw this up,” and only a slight sigh from Michael to deter him. It ends with him agreeing and Jeremy fist pumping into the air - but a small part of Michael, the part he likes to forget about, that still breaks and hopes a little each time Jeremy smiles at him, wonders if Jeremy has any idea what he is doing. 

Christine doesn't question them though. Doesn't sneer at Michael and make her distaste known. She doesn't show any malice when Jeremy first shows up with Michael in tow and greets her with a soft kiss that has Michael’s heart screaming in his chest. She doesn't question them through lunch either, instead she and Jeremy both try to involve him in the conversation to the point where he and Jeremy start on a thirty minute explanation of the purpose and meaning behind Apocalypse of the damned.

It's incredibly surprising that she doesn't laugh when Jeremy gets so excited about it that he forgets how to speak for a moment, or that Michael has to take a breather because he was so into it that he forgot to breathe. She doesn't mock them or laugh or make any snide remarks. Instead, she listens intently and only stops them occasionally to ask a question that has Jeremy's eyes lighting up as he jumps to answer. 

For a moment, Michael wonders if Jeremy's found the right person for him. 

For a moment, Michael can't breathe, and it's for an entirely different reason. 

It's not until after lunch and the movie, when they are finally grabbing desert, does Christine finally question him, but it's nowhere near the way he thought she would. 

Jeremy volunteers to get the ice cream, leaving Michael and Christine sitting together on an old rusted park bench. Christine doesn't turn to him when she finally speaks. 

“So you really do love him, then,” She starts, eyes forward and unflinching. 

And Michael - doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know if he should try to deny it or brush it off or turn the question back around on her, because he can't read Christine yet but she seems nice and there's no malice in her tone, no stroke of jealousy or spite, it's just a question she must have devised from a theory. But there's still something dark and furious and mean bubbling up inside of him that screams jealousy around Jeremy, but that's not fair to Christine if he were to bring that up - just smiles, keeps his eyes trained on Jeremy buying them all ice cream across the street, and laughs lightly when he sees him nearly drop the container holding their ice cream.

“So, I'm that obvious, huh?” He says, trying not to panic at the idea that maybe Jeremy knows how he feels and he just pities Michel too much to completely ditch him, and feels the bench vibrate when she hums. 

“For what it's worth,” she starts, “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah,” he sighs, leaning further into his hoodie. It still smells of late nights spent playing video games and unfinished pizza crusts. He pulls it tighter around him and inhales, “so am I.”

They both watch as Jeremy continues to trip down the sidewalk, before deciding to take mercy and stand to help. 

Christine doesn't bring it up again, and Michael never says anything about it. Instead he does what he always does: buries it down with a smile and walks to help his best friend. 

.

The first time Jeremy cancels their gaming session, it's to hang out with the new kid in their third grade class who invited him over after school.

Jeremy smiles through the story, excitement and anxiety mingling, and it feels like an arrow has been shot through Michael's chest, but Jeremy doesn't seem to notice as he continues to add details: every word making it harder to breathe. 

He goes home that evening and cries into his pillow and no matter how hard his mom and dad try to get him to eat, his stomach continues to be appalled at the idea of food. He falls asleep with tears staining his pillow, and a twisting stomach, and wakes the next morning to board the bus and hear all about his best friends new adventure: without him. 

Michael comes to learn, in time and as the years past, that the pain is something that comes with Jeremy: a price, really. And that breathing around him doesn't get easier after that; it gets harder, breathes weighed down by words unspoken, thoughts and feelings too heavy and risky to be admitted. 

And while the price is high, well, he's happy to pay it. Especially if it means he gets to keep his best friend by his side for as long as he can. No matter how many times he gets left behind, or how many arrows he feels plunging through his chest. 

Because then Jeremy will turn and smile at him, and it's like the pain was never even there.

.

It's a never ending cycle, Jeremy and Michael and something new.

It's not even Jeremy, sweet kind and even more considerate since the SQUIP Jeremy, It's him.

Michael doesn't know if he even wants out of it, of them, of the cycle of chaos they've both ignored, like it hasn't been circling and trying to drown them since they were ten. Michael doesn't know if he could ever live without it- without Jeremy.

He has spent twelve years stuck in it, anyway. He thinks maybe this will be the thing to kill him.

(At this point, he can't imagine any other way.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are much appreciated and I am rhymesofblue on tumblr if you wanna check me out!


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